


entä jos ei tarvitsekaan löytää tietä

by kimaracretak



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Be Careful What You Wish For, F/F, Horror, Onderon, Requited Unrequited Love, Undercover as a Couple, forests that probably want to eat you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 01:45:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14070198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimaracretak/pseuds/kimaracretak
Summary: Paige knows how to protect her admiral from assassins at a ceremonial dinner. Neither of them are prepared for what lures them into Onderon's jungle.





	entä jos ei tarvitsekaan löytää tietä

**Author's Note:**

  * For [meritmut](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meritmut/gifts).



> title means 'maybe there is no need to find a way after all' and is from johanna kurkela, 'ei panikoida',
> 
> nina prompted 'paige/amilyn + "There’s a strange gas station off of Interstate 15…"' and it may have turned into "There's a strange fuel depot in Onderon's jungle..."

Paige leans against the cool stonework of one of Iziz's outer walls, idly twirling her glass of vaguely rose-flavoured alcohol between her fingers. Ahead of her the jungle sprawls vast and silent, lit only by moonlight and a faint shimmer that Paige isn't entirely sure is due to the glitter on her false eyelashes. Behind her, the after-dinner party shows no signs of winding down, though midnight came and went so long ago Paige can't remember exactly how long it's been.

Somewhere in the throng of colours and dignitaries and precariously balanced dessert towers is Admiral Holdo, and Paige _knows_ she's not doing a particularly good job of being her bodyguard while she's hovering in the ornate gateway, but part of her thinks the jungle might be more pleasant than braving the party to find her Admiral.

Because she's not just Paige's admiral tonight, she's supposed to be her _wife_ , and that thought twists Paige's stomach with more fear than the prospect of facing down an entire dreadnought on her own. She's supposed to go back to the _Ninka_ tomorrow and pretend that nothing's different, that she doesn't know what Amilyn's back looks like bared to the deep blue V of her silky dress, that she doesn't know what Amilyn's nails feel like pressing just so into her hip as she's steered away from a Centrist senator.

The Resistance has always had a certain amount of informality, and Paige suspects the _Ninka_ runs with looser regulations than most, but _this_  ...

Paige drains her glass, bangs her head once against the wall, and takes a deep breath, straightening her shoulders. The night has to end soon, and ... well, she's not entirely sure what will happen then, but it's going to be both better and worse than this charade.

She brushes a few leaves from her suit jacket and turns around, frowning as the shimmer at the edge of the jungle seems to flare at the corner of her eye. She's been away too long.

"Paige!" Amilyn's voice drifts over to her before she's taken more than five steps into the square, and Paige looks over to see her emerging glowing from the crowd, eyes alight with moonlight and alcohol and what can't possibly be the shimmer from the trees. She cups Paige's cheeks in her hands, and Paige shivers from far more than just the cold metal of her rings.

"Are you alright?" Amilyn asks, brow furrowed in concern, and Paige can't tell if she feels guilty for worrying her or happy Amilyn cares. She settles for feeling overwhelmed somewhere in the middle.

"Yeah." She swallows dryly, wondering if she should risk another of the rose drinks. "Just ... a lot of people. I stepped outside, and I thought there was something ..."

She wants the night to be over. She wants to be back in her bunk on the _Ninka_ , dangling over Rose's bed and letter her hair fall into her sister's face as she tells her about the party, about the abandoned fuel depot in the ...

... in the ...

... what fuel depot?

"Paige? _Paige_." Amilyn's nails are needle-sharp in her cheeks suddenly, and Paige comes back to herself with a start.

"There's something in the jungle," she says, with a certainty unfamiliar to her own ears. "I don't know if they're hiding it from us or from the First Order, but it's there."

She bites her lip, staring up at Amilyn. She's not sure what kind of response she expects — half-hopes for Amilyn to tell her to stop being silly and drag her back to the party so Paige can go back to focussing on keeping her hands to herself and Amilyn can go back to getting concrete promises of aid for the Resistance.

But Amilyn's eyes go vacant, like she's slipped sideways into whatever space she retreats into where she comes up with ideas for using a wandering asteroid belt to blow up a First Order carrier, or finds an abandoned Rebel base from nothing but a half-remembered astrology prediction, and Paige holds her breath.

"Okay," she says simply when her eyes refocus, and Paige blinks in shock. "We'll go see what that is."

"Just like that?"

Amilyn shrugs. "Dxun is full and Evas has already set."

Paige gives her an incredulous look, and Amilyn laughs. "And the crown prince may have suggested several places I should avoid if I wanted to avoid causing trouble for the First Order. Astrology is only useful when —"

"When taken as part of a whole, I know," Paige finishes, looking subtly around to ensure they've not drawn too much attention to themselves. "Can we get out of here now, or ..."

"Of course." Amilyn slips her arm around Paige's waist and winds them on a circuitous path to the exit, presses her close enough that as she says their goodbyes the most they get in response is a few knowing looks and lascivious winks. Paige blushes deep, and hopes it's dark enough that no one can tell.

 

***

 

There's a quiet in the jungle like Paige has never heard before, not even on the few occasions when Amilyn has tried to lead interested members of the _Ninka_ 's crew in meditation. There's a light in the trees like Paige has never seen before, not even when she was staring out at the jungle from the city wall.

She wants to say something, anything to break the awful silence that not even their shoes — impractical enough to fit in at the party, practical enough that they shouldn't be immediately life threatening — break as they make their way along the path. She could say something here and it wouldn't be permanent, wouldn't be ...

... she could say something here and it wouldn't ...

When she looks back, she can't see their footprints.

Paige can feel sweat beading down her spine, can feel gooseflesh on Amilyn's arm where she still hasn't let go, even though they're far too deep in the jungle for any prying eyes. She thinks for a moment she should mention that, and it's crowding against the back of her teeth — _Amilyn_ , or maybe _Admiral_ , the shape of devotion always half a surprise by the time it leaves her mouth — before Amilyn speaks.

"Paige, you're not very subtle."

Her first impulse is to feign ignorance, but that would be a disservice to Amilyn, to herself, to the jungle all around them. "Is that why we're here, then?"

She's not sure if she's trying for levity, if she means Onderon or the party or the jungle. As she breathes in, the only thing she is sure of is Amilyn's hand in hers.

"Not entirely," Amilyn says, and Paige doesn't need to be looking up at her to feel the sincerity of her regret. The heat of Amilyn's gaze is heavy against her, and Paige isn't sure if her blush is one of desire or shame. "One day, maybe."

In the silence where Paige is trying to remind herself to breathe, she can pick out a low hum, omnipresent and rising. " _That's_ why we're here, isn't it," she says, and she's surprised to find that neither of them have stopped walking.

Amilyn squeezes her hand in answer as they break into a clearing, and there's the fuel depot, just as she'd known.

It's overgrown, the jungle taking back what it's owed from the city, and yet the vines can't obscure the doorway, or the thin beam of light shining from the gap when the door doesn't meet the ground.

It's enough that she can put the thought of the hundred thousand implications of what Amilyn's just said about the future aside, because regardless of what the future holds for _them_ this depot might hold the salvation of the Resistance.

Paige starts forward, eyes fixed on the light, until it ... _flares_. Like the shimmer at the treeline, like Amilyn's eyes at the party.

When she looks down, the light has washed over her hands.

She looks from the depot to Amilyn and nothing has changed, except that Amilyn is reaching out to cradle her face in both hands again.

Paige shuts her eyes and doesn't think about how she feels like a whole world when Amilyn holds her like this. "Look at me, Paige," Amilyn is saying, "Paige, look, it's alright."

But when Paige opens her eyes all she sees is Amilyn, wreathed in rainbows, and nothing is alright at all.


End file.
